


lessons learned

by wafflesandkruge



Category: Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kinda, Late Night Conversations, Music Lessons, Plot Twists, ehri's a snake and i love her, language lessons, side zoyalai near the end if that's your thing, zori nation rise up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wafflesandkruge/pseuds/wafflesandkruge
Summary: There was a teasing smirk on her lips, one that made her look more a mischievous girl than a queen-to-be. She ran her hands down the khatuur again and Zoya pulled at the collar of her kefta, suddenly feeling flushed. A breeze flitted about the room, the lights flickering.“Stay.” Ehri’s voice was insistent. “Listen for a bit. Maybe you’ll learn something.”Or a late night encounter leads to Zoya learning more about the enigmatic Shu princess.
Relationships: Ehri Kir-Taban & Zoya Nazyalensky, Ehri Kir-Taban/Zoya Nazyalensky, Nikolai Lantsov & Zoya Nazyalensky, Nikolai Lantsov/Zoya Nazyalensky, Zoya Nazyalensky & Genya Safin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	lessons learned

**Author's Note:**

> there's no canon age for ehri, but i imagine her around 20/21!

There was a certain quiet that fell over the Grand Palace that could only be experienced in the late hours of the night. Zoya, who always stayed late to work, was acutely familiar with it. Except this evening, the silence had been shattered by some fool who was about to regret being born when Zoya found them. Her boots were near silent against the marble floors as she strode purposefully down the halls, ears straining to follow the disturbance.

She turned another corner, and the sound grew louder. It sounded like the plucking of an instrument, but she wasn’t familiar with which one. Not that she had a great knowledge of music. But more importantly, it was nearly an hour after midnight, when most of the sane occupants of the palace had already gone to bed. Surely, any music could wait until the morning. 

Her stops faltered as she realized where she’d tracked the noise to. The Queen’s Suite. Of course it was Princess Ehri and her fancy eighteen-string khatuur. There seemed to be a never ending stream of trouble and schemes from the Shu Princess in the few months she’d been in Os Alta. Perhaps this time, she was trying to drive Zoya insane so Ravka would be short a general. She stood at the end of the hallway for a moment longer, then blew out a breath and squared her shoulders. With a jerk of her head, the guards in front of the door relocated to the other end of the hall, barely visible in the dim light. 

The last few steps to the door seemed to take an eternity. She placed a hand on the carved wood of the door, then without hesitation, shoved the door open. 

The first thing she saw was light from the glow of a dozen lanterns set about the room. She blinked rapidly to adjust her eyes, and that’s when she saw Ehri in the center of the room. She paid no mind to Zoya’s intrusion, and Zoya took the opportunity to study her. The skirts of her dress were spread out around her like a puddle of dark green ink, shimmering against the imported carpets on the floor. Loose strands of her hair caught the light as she leaned over her golden khatuur. Her brows were drawn together in concentration, her dark eyes sharp and focused as she adjusted the bridges of her instrument. If Zoya had more of an appreciation for the fine arts, she might have been able to name the painting that the sight of Ehri reminded her of, one of a queen of dynasties past. 

But while Ehri was as pretty as the flowers that Ahmrat Jen was famous for, Zoya knew a serpent lurked underneath her smiles. She hid her hands in the sleeves of her kefta and scowled. “It’s the middle of the night.” 

Ehri still didn’t look up, instead tuning another string. “Seeing as I’ll soon be Queen, they might as well get used to my melancholic moods,” she retorted sharply. “Why are you here? I would have expected you to be with our darling King.”

Zoya grimaced. She supposed it only made sense for the Princess to have heard the rumors by now, but she didn’t like the accusation in her tone. Ehri always seemed to say one thing, then mean something else entirely like a saintsforsaken cipher. Zoya had long since given up trying to figure out what exactly Ehri wanted. 

“That’s none of your business.” She sketched a shallow, mocking bow. She supposed she’d have to get used to doing that soon enough. “Have a pleasant night, Princess. And keep it down. Some of us have important business to attend to in the morning.”

Zoya was about to turn to leave, but then Ehri ran her fingers over the fingerboard, soft as a lover’s caress. The complicated riff echoed throughout the room, seeming to make even the solid stone walls vibrate. Her feet were frozen in place as she watched Ehri continue to play. The princess’ fingers seemed to find their places on the strings as easily as breathing, each movement precise and practiced. She was a master, in the same way Zoya had honed her powers to perfection. It was dizzying to watch, to listen.

The Princess looked up directly at Zoya, her eyes luminous in the lantern light. Her fingers didn’t stop gliding over the strings even as she spoke. “My mother didn’t like it when I picked the khatuur as a hobby as it gave me callouses. I believe what she said was ‘What kind of lover would want a girl with hands like a farmer?’ But don’t you think my lover would rather I have an experienced hand?”

There was a teasing smirk on her lips, one that made her look more a mischievous girl than a queen-to-be. She ran her hands down the khatuur again and Zoya pulled at the collar of her kefta, suddenly feeling flushed. A breeze flitted about the room, the lights flickering.

“Stay.” Ehri’s voice was insistent. “Listen for a bit. Maybe you’ll learn something.”

Zoya hesitated. But it was always easier for her to say  _ no _ .

“I don’t think I have anything to learn from you, Princess. Good night.” She didn’t miss the look of anger that flashed on Ehri’s face before she spun on her heels and marched back to her rooms at the Little Palace. 

But that night, even after shutting the windows and creating an acoustic blanket with her powers, she couldn’t stop hearing the sound of Ehri’s music.

* * *

A week had gone by without a disturbance from Ehri, so Zoya was surprised when after another late night spent in the war room, she heard the faint sounds of a khatuur coming from a distant wing. And as prideful as Zoya was, she couldn’t help following it like a siren’s call.

Once again, the guards relocated themselves at her approach. And once again, she found Ehri seated in the middle of her room bent over her khatuur. She wore blue tonight, a few shades lighter than Zoya’s own kefta.

“Couldn’t get me out of your head, General?” Zoya couldn’t see her face, but she could imagine Ehri’s smirk well enough.

“I’m here to tell you to stop playing your little ditties this late.”

“I’ll consider it. If you stay.” She lifted her fingers from the string and folded her hands into her lap as she looked up at Zoya. As usual, Zoya couldn’t shake the feeling that Ehri was hiding something, but her face was impossible to read. If the Princess had looked at anybody else in that way, golden eyes sly under her dark lashes, Zoya was sure they would have given her anything she wanted. But Zoya was a skilled player of this game as well. She wasn’t another foolish man Ehri could charm into helping her.

But she’d often found that the best way of dealing with pushy royals was to indulge them for a bit, no matter how ridiculous the request. Ehri seemed no exception.

She settled herself onto a pillow Ehri had laid out across from her. The khatuur was the only thing separating them now, and this close, Zoya could make out the miniature scenes from Shu folktales painstakingly carved into the wood. It was a beautiful thing, and it suited Ehri perfectly.

Ehri plucked a few notes, then turned her full attention to Zoya. “Any requests?”

“I was under the impression you had the whole night planned out for us.” Zoya brushed a speck of dust off her sleeve.

“And you’d be entirely correct, General. But I’ve found women like you like to believe they have some semblance of control.” Ehri’s eyes regarded her with unabashed curiosity. 

Zoya bristled at that. “Women like me?”

“Hm.” Ehri’s fingers trailed the strings and plucked a few notes at random. “Proud. Stubborn. Powerful.”

“That almost sounds like a compliment.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Her fingers stilled for a moment, then Ehri truly began to play.

And Zoya wondered why she didn’t spend more time listening to music if music was like this, a beautiful stream of sound that rushed over them both, surrounding them until Ehri was controlling every thread of her body with each note. Zoya shivered as the melody washed over her. 

She closed her eyes as if depriving herself of one sense could make the music more, but they soon flew open again as Ehri began to sing. Her usual clipped Ravkan was replaced by rolling Shu syllables, her voice filling the cavernous room. And although Zoya’s Shu had gone unused too long for her to understand the words, she could pick up on the distinctly mournful emotions tinging Ehri’s song.

The world faded away until there was nothing but the twanging of the khatuur and Ehri’s strong voice pulling Zoya along.

* * *

Zoya wasn’t sure how long she’d been there, entranced. But the music grew softer until Ehri let out a sigh with a final pluck of a string. She lifted her golden eyes to Zoya, a strange, indecipherable emotion crossing them for a moment.

Her voice was raspy. “You’re crying.”

Zoya hadn’t realized it, but her face was wet. She swiped hastily at her face with the cuff of her sleeve. She never cried, especially not in front of people who probably wanted her dead one way or another. 

“No I’m not.” 

Ehri opened her mouth to argue, but broke off into a coughing fit. Zoya half-rose to her feet, about to call the guards in– Saints, how would it look if the Shu princess died with only her in the room?– but then Ehri gestured at the cup of tea on the table at Zoya’s left. Their fingers brushed as Zoya handed it over, and a spark zipped down her arm, not unlike when she summoned lightning. Ehri drank deeply, not seeming to care that it had long gone cold.

“This song,” she began after she had recovered, “was written about a Taban queen whose lover was captured by grassland raiders. They offered her an ultimatum. Half the country for her safe return. But before she could be forced to choose, her lover took her own life to spare her from making the decision. Her blood watered the steps of our palace and the queen wept for seven days and nights. We call it The Tears of Longniang.”

Something about that didn’t sit right with Zoya. She scowled and leaned back on her pillows. “So it’s implied that she would have traded her country for one person?” she snapped. “How foolish. No one is worth that much.”

Ehri smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She played with one of her khatuur strings as she replied. “Love brings out the worst in us, General. By all accounts, she was a fair and just queen both before and after the incident. But she is forever remembered for her one moment of weakness.”

“And how will you be remembered?” The question was out of her mouth before she could think too deeply about it. Ehri’s face turned thoughtful. 

“I pray history will be kind to me. Perhaps a woman who did what had to be done to save her country, even if it meant her freedom was forfeit. Even if she had to cut out her own heart. And you?”

Zoya had been so busy puzzling over what exactly Ehri was hinting at that she nearly missed her question. But it was something Zoya had already contemplated much too often. She rose to her feet and dusted off her kefta. “They’ll see me as a tyrant, a power-hungry Grisha monster intent on ruling the country in everything but name. Like _ him _ . But I wouldn’t mind that, not if I help bring peace.”

“You don’t seem to care very much about what people think of you,” Ehri observed. 

“No. I don’t.”

She turned to go, and was almost out the door before Ehri spoke again. “Come back tomorrow and I’ll teach you how to play. Even you should be able to pick it up soon enough with a skilled teacher.”

Zoya studied the Princess. Her shoulders were slumped with either exhaustion or defeat, but her eyes were bright. Inviting. Zoya couldn’t help wanting to find out exactly what made Ehri look at her with anything other than hostility. She wanted something from Zoya, that was clear, but what? Against her better judgement, she gave a slight dip of her head and left the room. The music started again before she’d even left the wing.

**Author's Note:**

> not sure if i've made this clear but i am absolute garbage for zori. Next chapter will be fluffy and kind of self-concluding, but anything past that will be sad :( (you don't have to read the sad chapters though!)


End file.
